ReBirth: An Oryx and Crake Fanfic
by Stromeh
Summary: An Oryx and Crake Fanfic of what happens after. A continuation of Snowman Jimmy 's story. The ReBirth of the earth, and the possible comeback of Crake. Pairings:  Snowman/Jimmy x Oryx. Crake x Jimmy/  Snowman
1. Chapter 1

ReBirth: An Oryx and Crake Fanfic

Chapter 1

Survivors

Snowman wished he hadn't approached the _people. _It was not like they shot him or attacked him. That would have been better. At least he wouldn't have to think. Thinking was hard nowadays. He wasn't expecting them to just let a naked hairy guy to have a meal with them. Even the way they _let_ him was quite unexpected; he thought that there'd be rocks thrown at him, or they'd start yelling, threatening him, or maybe they'll shoot him.

_That's the common approach that man would hold when he witnesses something out of the common, he'd respond with hostility to possible hostility_, he heard. It was a male voice, some old professor from Martha Stewart, possibly. He'd forgotten.

The fire crackled, and the darker skinned man turned the rakunk stick over. Snowman eyed each person carefully, starting from the woman at his right, then the man with the rakunk stick, then the white man who sat silently to his own left. He wondered if they thought he stank.

He knew that they would ask about his story. They've told him theirs. It would only be a matter of time before any of the men- or the woman would open his or her mouth and say-… "You haven't touched the rakunk yet." It was the woman, the one who said that she used to be a bar girl of some sort, who said it.

Snowman eyed the rakunk, remembering his pet rakunk, Killer. No, it was _Jimmy_'s pet rakunk. He ignored his aversion, and bit into the tender roasted meat. It was a long time since he last ate some real meat, not fish, or nuts and berries, or the canned sort. There was an odd end to the taste, but he ate it anyway, biting strips of meat off. The others were doing the same. He felt perplexed. The rest of the "people" were unnaturally placid. They were like the Crakers, like aged, clothed Crakers. But maybe it was because of the change. _Maybe they've already lost their minds_, Snowman thought, _like me_.

"So how did you come here? How did you survive?" Here it came, the fated question. It was the dark-skinned man this time. In his head, Snowman has already made an idea of what to say. He'd say the truth, part of it. One, he was an ordinary worker of Rejoov. Two, he was not that aware that the BlyssPluss pills contained the deadly virus. Nobody in his sector was quite aware of it (which was also true, only Crake knew, and maybe Oryx, but he wouldn't like to think of that). In the case he would be asked about Crake (which would be unlikely, hopefully), he'd say that he never personally met him, but he was a well-known bigshot in Rejoov. That way it'd sound convincing enough. When asked how he survived (which was likely), he'd say that he sneaked in the Paradice Dome, in the flurry of the people escaping. He thought he would be dead, and he hid in a storeroom, but someone locked him in. He got stuck for days and he had nothing to eat, but there were boxes and boxes of some sort of fluid that smelled nice. He sustained himself with this liquid. One day, as he was checking out the boxes, he found a large hammer, which he used to bash open a window. It worked, and he discovered himself among the Crakers. The Crakers helped nursed his wounds (which was probably possible, through their purring, and he considered his foot for a moment, which although, still pained, worked considerably better than what he expected). He'd then add that he didn't know the Crakers much, but they were gentle creatures, but they were really weird and all. That's where he'd end, living near a group of hospitable humanoids, until he saw these real people. It wasn't entirely believable. He would have fibbed more if necessary, which was what he did.

The other party seemed to be satisfied enough with his story. Soon, the white man said something about needing to leave; and the woman asked Snowman whether or not he would like to go with them. Snowman shook his head, he couldn't; he had to take care of the Crakers. But he didn't say that, he said that he would go on and look for more survivors, which was reason enough for them. But he told them that once he was done, he would join them. That seemed to have pleased the woman and the dark-skinned man. He asked him for their contact info, if they have any. They told him to look for them in a well-known building in the pleeblands. He knew the place. He would visit often. That was fine. The three left, leaving Snowman alone with himself again. Himself, his voices and his responsibility.

I haven't read the Year of the Flood yet, so I haven't much idea of what else happened. So sorry for the inconsistencies.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Return

Snowman trudged on wearily. His foot was paining him again. Maybe he should have a Joltbar when he arrives home. Then he'd wrap himself with the floral sheet. Maybe he should go back to the Crakers, have them purr his feet well (It seems to be more effective on fellow Crakers though, which he was not). Maybe he should have accepted Abraham Lincoln's help, but then he'd never be able to confirm the existence of survivors, not peacefully. So maybe what he did was the best. Or maybe he ought to have shot them all, maybe Crake wanted that.

_I'm counting on you._ Bullshit.

Snowman arrived back at his tree, grabbed the blanket, and ate the Joltbar- there were four left, and some microwave-meals. _Pity_, he didn't even have a microwave.

He was swept with the feeling of missing something. Maybe he ought to go back to the Crakers, tell them something like "_Awhile ago, I conferred with the messengers of Crake… and Oryx. They said that Crake would call me more often. He needed me to help clean away the rest of the chaos. They also said that you must find more fish for me and cook one for me every time I would visit. Oryx would approve of that, I'd need my energies to help Crake make this world a better place_." That would probably do it. Cover up all the holes he left. Hopefully.

Snowman could see the smoke rising up in the distance. He felt surprise, then worry, then confusion. It was coming from the Crakers' encampment. Why would there be smoke? And something tells him it's no ordinary smoke. He hoped that Crake haven't set another bug in the Crakers' biological system. He doesn't know any of this scientific shit. He wasn't a numbers person. Period.

He was on his way anyway. He was already on Snowman Fish Path. He could see disarray. Something happened. Something wrong.

First of all, the Craker men and women were walking in lines, by pairs, entering a large truck. There were _normal_ people- survivors, he believed, ushering them in. If there were some, there were bound to be more. And he thought that he was the last on earth.

The Crakers did not argue, did not scream, shout or stand their ground. They just followed, like willing cattle. Snowman cannot believe his eyes. He did not understand, _Man thinks he understands things he doesn't. He is curious, but once this curiosity is satisfied, he is also satisfied. There is nothing beyond curiosity. Man could not understand everything._ A man again. Another one. Why isn't it Oryx instead? Or Crake?

He wearily approached the men loading the Crakers in. He knew he wouldn't be able to just kill them all. He'd be killed before shooting off two of them with his spray gun. Three, if he was lucky. All the men were wearing white lab coats, there was an insignia on their left breast pockets, but it was too blurry in his eyes. He saw someone in standard issue tropical khakis. Someone familiar, the white man he ate his lunch with just a few moments ago.

That man seemed to be the one giving the orders. And he saw Snowman first.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

ReBirth

Yesterday, he was Snowman, an unshaved man living his life as a hermit, prophet to a group of humanoid Crakers, a scavenger, survivor to the Apocalypse. Today, he is Jimmy once again, best friend to Crake, well-dressed, well-pressed, on his way to join a survivor community, no longer a Craker caretaker. Just plain-old Jimmy. Or not; he was changed in more ways than one ever since he left the Paradice Dome.

It began yesterday. The white man did not shoot, which was good; but he stared long and hard at Snowman. There was something that he wanted to say, and Snowman knew that it wouldn't be another invite to a rakunk meal. It was probably worse. Snowman awkwardly approached the white man, who he remembered as someone named Tim, or Timothy. Something like that.

"We are right. You were the one Crake has chosen to guide the Paradice Project specimen." The white man eyed Snowman critically. _Maybe he thinks I'm a nut_, Snowman thought, _but how'd he know about Crake? _Snowman remained silent as the man spoke.

"It'd be necessary for you to join us. Crake's orders."

_Is Crake still working from beyond the grave? Was this his death wish?_ Snowman thought. _What the fuck is going on?_

"We have chartered a helicopter to bring you to the new Paradice Dome, with your help, we could finish what we have started. Once we arrive, you will be directed to your room to freshen yourself up. We would call you when we want to talk to you." said Tim. He wrinkled his nose at Snowman and pulled a remote of some sort from his pants pocket. There were several buttons on it that Snowman did not recognize, and Tim pressed one of them. Suddenly, a whirring sound was heard, becoming louder and louder. It was the sound of a helicopter, which soon landed a few meters away from the place where Snowman was standing. Tim motioned for him to enter. And that was what he did, each step of his a step towards a new man.

"We're nearing. See that large dome there?" that was what Snowman's companion said. It was the only thing he mentioned in the entire ride. Aside from the new Paradice Dome, the only thing Snowman saw was desolation. Overgrown vegatation was climbing over buildings and landmarks. Everything else looked like a junkyard.

A few minutes later, they landed. Snowman was escorted to the NPD (new Paradice Dome, as Tim now called it), which was built with the same airlock system as the previous one. They entered a side entrance, which led to the "West Lobby", which in turn led to the "Western Quarters", where Snowman's room was in. Tim flicked him a card key which could be used to access the room anytime.

Snowman felt as if he was pulled back in time. The place was set precisely the same way his old room in the Paradice Dome. He checked the drawers, everything was in the exact same place it was before, the clothes he left were there, except they looked cleaner now. He took a set and entered the comfort room where he was told to shave and take a bath. Snowman assessed himself in the mirror. His beard grew dense and thick, he thought that he'd look like Noah after the flood. He got hand of a razor, and carefully scraped away the beard. _The feathers were a gift from Oryx_, somehow, he felt as if he was throwing his past away, not all of it, but only of Oryx and the Crakers. When he looked once again, he saw Jimmy, not Snowman. Jimmy.

The call came exactly half an hour after his preparations. It was time for him to receive the answers. He was told to go back to the Western Lobby, where he'll meet with someone. Someone who they said knows all the answers.

Jimmy walked back to the western lobby, eagerness, nervousness, and curiosity entwined within him. Just now, he had noticed a couple of white coated men and women. More survivors. It was surprising to him how someone could have gathered them all in one place. Each footstep of his was like an earthquake, something strange and revolutionary.

The first he saw was Tim, now dressed in one of those uniform white coats. He just saw now upon closer inspection that they have a red bird sewn on their breast pockets. There was another man besides Tim, the one who knew everything. The one with green eyes, the one with a familiar no-name black shirt, the one who smiled as he saw Jimmy, the one who said that one word that confirmed who he was as Jimmy's eyes widened in surprise.

"Cork-nut."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Questions

Jimmy was dumbfounded. He didn't believe that Crake was still alive. As far as he remembered, he had shot him. Days before he left the old Paradice Dome, Crake's body was already in a state beyond dead. It was dead AND rotting, horribly. So how could Crake stand before him now, just the way he had looked like before he was dead. Is it even Crake? Maybe it wasn't him, maybe it is a robot or a tangible hologram. Whatever he is, Jimmy wasn't sure, but he looked real, sounded real. Maybe he IS real, and everything Jimmy encountered since months before was a joke.

Crake (or whoever he is) noted Jimmy's anxiety and started tapping his foot on the ground. It was a habit Crake had. Soon, Crake (let's call him such for the moment) ended the silence and spoke.

"You'll be wanting answers. I could not give you all of them, but I could not deny you all of them either. You deserve to know, since you're part of it. This will be long. Come with me." said Crake. "Tim, you're dismissed. Take the numbers, give them tests." He waved his hand off, turning to his back. "Jim, you coming or not?"

Jimmy knew he had to comply, he can't be missing in on the info. Not after all that he had done.

They were in Crake's office. Like Jimmy's room, it looked exactly the same as the one in the previous Paradice Dome. Cluttered, large. Jimmy helped himself to a seat, knowing that if it was really Crake, he wouldn't mind. He didn't.

"So, you alive now?"

"Depends on how you describe alive. Being alive, in the sense of being physically present in the form God or whoever made us, well not really. Being alive, in the term of being possibly dead moments later; that also does not apply to me. There could also be a separate definition of death, but let's just rely on your perspective on it." Crake answered. He was grinning, the old grin Crake used to make when Jimmy asked him something which he knew Jimmy would ask. "I am alive, but I have been dead. I have been dead, but before that I was already dead. I occasionally left the Paradice Dome and let you handle things in the period of time wherein I had to conduct the preparations for myself."

"Weren't you with Oryx?" Jimmy cringed when he heard himself mention her name. It occurred to him how much he had missed her, how he would never again feel those eyes piercing against his soul, that dangerous, delightful feeling. Unless... "How come I knew nothing of this? I thought you were just over the pleeblands, having a drink or something like that."

"Oryx. Another answer comes. Not to the question you've asked. But something else you ought to know." Crake's sardonic grin twisted into a relieved smile. It annoyed Jimmy. "Oryx was never there at all. The Oryx you know, she never was, never existed. The young kid we saw at the porno-site? She was dead for over three years."

"How can that be?" Jimmy growled. Inside he shook, how can Oryx not be alive? He felt her warmth by his side. He spoke to her, heard her stories. She belonged to him, for not that long, but she was _there_.

"Oryx was a programmed clone." Crake mentioned peacefully. "I had her made for you as a gift. I programmed all her conversations for you, how she'd act, how she'd do things. She was supposed to be with you when I was gone, tell you what to do in case you messed up. I never knew she was defective. Therefore, she was eliminated..."

"You fucking killed her?" Jimmy felt the blood rise to his head. Normally, he wouldn't buy this if it came from anyone else. But it came from Crake. It came from his only best friend, it came from the guy who makes lies the truth. If Crake says shit tastes like chocolate, then it probably does. It was the thought of this that stopped Jimmy from giving Crake a punch. Whatever it was, _he had the feeling that Crake told the truth._

"Not really. She was dead to begin with. Besides, I was the one who gave her life. Don't I have the right to take it too?" Crake continued. "Who told you to get too attached to her?"

"I'll ask the questions. Please explain to me clearly how YOU managed to be alive." Jimmy felt the anger in him subsiding, making way for his curiosity. It sucks not knowing much.

"Remember the time we were talking about immortality? About Cyrogenic preservation?"

Jimmy nodded.

"I was able to preserve myself, using another body vessel. By the time I arrived at Paradice Dome and had myself killed, not really killed, of course... more of discarded, I was already in my cell-state regrowth being for an awareness transplant. I was here already regaining my consciousness by the time you left. There were complications though, that occurred, but they were already taken cared of. Then, I had the men search for you. It took quite a while. Nevertheless, we found you, didn't we?" Crake asked, his left eyebrow arching upward, giving him a quizzical, amused look.

"How did you get all these people?"

Crake laughed. "Same as last time. They're all MaddAddam. I had them vaccinated, gave them the same ones you have. They were all tasked to stay here, to facilitate the building of the Paradice Dome community."

"Why?" Jimmy asked. This was the question that has been bothering him all the time. _Why would Crake do this? Why was he a part of it? Why was the Paradice Project implemented?_ In his head, there was a voice, echoing, _Why? Why? Why?_

((-I know I'm not that good. I always have a difficulty in writing FanFiction for books. It's like I HAVE to write in the same style as the author, in which I fail. Horribly. I do hope, though, that you still find my story interesting or entertaining. It would really make me happy if you would review or comment. My story is getting sort of out-of-hand, weirdness is attacking it from all sides. I mean, Crake, reborn? Only a crazy idiot like me would make it like that. I wouldn't be updating as regularly as I did for the past few days. But I would.;)-))


End file.
